


late buses in january

by quensty



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6365077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quensty/pseuds/quensty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy smells like car smoke and whip-cream, but that might just be the polluted city air filling Jason’s nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	late buses in january

At first glance, Jason would’ve supposed he is a lower-class, sharp-tongued, and obviously impulsive guy that didn’t have the sense of wearing something heavier than a hoodie in the middle of January (in _New York City,_ the mother-effing _home of hypothermia)._ But he is a _soaked-to-the-bone_ lower-class, sharp-tongued, and obviously impulsive guy who hadn’t the sense to wear something other than a thin-weight hoodie in the middle of January.

The rain wasn’t unexpected; the sky has been as grey as an old dime since daybreak, the clouds leaning farther and farther towards the ground as if they were close to falling. This guy, Jason notes with a grimace, had seemingly not noticed. He’s wringing the hems of his clothes onto the murky curb, cold rainwater dripping down his hands. He’s tall, ridiculously messy haired, and dark skinned, like he spends too much time in the sun.

Jason almost chooses against it, but his legs eat up the two feet between them without his accord, his arm having to reach out a little awkwardly so that the umbrella covers both of their heads. His eyes are the greenest eyes he’s ever seen, almost comical, when he turns his head to look at Jason. Then Jason shrugs, as if to answer an unasked question. “You were – er, looking a little, well, _wet_ over here,” Jason says, and almost shrugs again. “I couldn’t have someone catching the same bus as me getting sick.”

The guy smells like car smoke and whip-cream, but that might just be the polluted city air filling Jason’s nose. The guy stares a little longer before looking away towards the road, grunting, and Jason figures it’s his way of saying thank-you. “It’s fine, really,” says the other guy finally, scowling vaguely, “it was my fault for not checking the weather before I left.”

“I don’t think it would’ve made much a difference there,” Jason answers cautiously, again taking in the guy’s thin hoodie before adding, “I mean, you must’ve been in a rush.” When the guy doesn’t answer, Jason finds the confidence to keep talking. “Are you late for work, or something?”

When he sighs, his breath comes out in wisps of mist. “Getting coffee with a friend of mine visiting from California, and he’s going to kill me when I get there late,” he tells Jason, making an aborted movement as if to pull something out of his pocket, but decides against it. “What about you?”

“Visiting myself, actually,” says Jason, “permanently. So, settling in might be the better word for it. I figured I’d go get some lunch at a cheap café somewhere, but the bus should’ve been here Years ago. You don’t happen to have a schedule or something, do you?”

“If I did,” the guy answers dryly, emptying his dark, soggy pockets, “it’d be ruined by now.”

“Right.” Jason shifts uncomfortably on his feet, the fingers gripped around the umbrella clenching and unclenching randomly. He scratches a hot spot on his cheeks, not knowing what to say.

This time, the guy does pull out something from his pocket. He swears briefly at the screen of his phone, shoving it back into his pocket with more force than necessary. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting the hell out of here and walking out there.” He looks over at Jason, a thoughtful look on his face. “Would you like to join me? A walk in the rain is more a walk for two.”


End file.
